


The Doctor and the Diplomat

by merlins_sister



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlins_sister/pseuds/merlins_sister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of moments in the relationship between Elizabeth and Carson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bringing Me To My Senses

It's usually the sound of Carson that greets me first when I awake. The rustle of bedclothes as he pulls me closer to him. The sound of his breath coming out in a sweet rush, as he sleeps on, oblivious to my awareness. Sometimes, like today, my favourite type of day, it's the sound of music. Carson's voice singing along to one of his favourite songs, a mellow tenor overtone to a classic that I usually can't place. But it's always a song that suits him, would remind me of him even if he wasn't there.

The vocal performance is backed by the sizzle of cooking, as Carson works miracles with powdered egg and protein products that really shouldn't taste as good as they do after his touch. It's what makes these quarters feel like home, our home, the smell of breakfast. The mess hall is all well and good, but don't they say the kitchen is the heart of the home? And the smell of Carson cooking in it definitely makes it mine.

It's easier to get out of bed on days like these. I pull on my robe, or sometimes Carson's, so I can drink in his smell. It's a woody scent, the influence of his aftershave, with a lighter tone from his deodorant. Plus the faint antiseptic smell that he carries with him, the hint of his vocation, that mingles with the two. It should just remind me of his job and its closeness to illness and death. But instead it smells of his love and compassion, and the unique way he views the world.

Then I get to see him. On a day like this he is usually preoccupied with his culinary miracles, or the song that he is singing with gusto by now. He doesn't notice how I stand and take in all that he is. His solid but, to me at least, his perfectly formed body. Those strong arms and shoulders that carry us, those firm legs that have stood strong for us, and the butt... well, maybe that one's just for me.

I walk up behind him, wrap my arms around him, and savour the touch of that solid body next to me. The firmness and a strength that amazes me. Him too, sometimes I think. I lean my head on his shoulder, before lifting it up so our cheeks touch. Often he has shaved before I've woken. And then other times, the times I prefer, he has yet to take away the whiskers that rub with a sweet harshness against my soft skin.

He lifts his hand up and strokes my other cheek, before turning so he can place his lips softly on the other.

"Good morning, my love," he says, with a lilt in his accent that always sounds like it's just there for me.

"Good morning," I say softly, as he turns to face me properly.

I lean in and kiss him. He tastes of the orange juice he always starts the day with, a slight bitterness giving away it's preserved nature. When he pulls me in for a longer kiss, I can taste more; the faint aroma of mint from the toothpaste, a flash of the coffee that he has been sipping as he cooked. But more than anything else I taste him, the uniqueness that is Carson Beckett, and I drink deeply.

Only when I pull back from the kiss do I get a chance to take it all in, all that I can sense of him. That completeness I've not had with another, my senses heightened by the normality he brings in this less than normal place. And somehow I just know that as long as he is by my side there is nothing I can not handle.  



	2. Wonderful

Carson glanced up at the sound of the door opening, before returning to reading the journal.

"Hello, love. Have you had a good evening?"

"It was wonderful!"

Carson looked up again in surprise at the enthusiastic answer, and took a proper look at Elizabeth. Her face was flushed, and her smile wide.

He felt a smile of his own twitch at the edge of his mouth. "That good, eh?"

"Yes, though I have to say the bottle of drink that Halling gave Kate and I was a teensy, weensy bit stronger than I thought."

She wobbled over to the bed and collapsed on the edge, before wrapping herself around Carson. He looked down at her smiling face.

"Comfy?"

She nodded. "Wonderful!"

Managing to move the arm holding the journal back into position Carson attempted to go back to his reading. Elizabeth, however, seemed to have different ideas as she fidgeted to get comfortable. After a few minutes though she settled enough to allow Carson to concentrate. He was just getting to a particularly useful section of the article he was reading when Elizabeth flew up.

"I forgot to tell you something!"

Her face was so fixed in panic at her seeming forgetfulness that Carson braced himself for what was coming next.

"I'm having the best sex of my life," she stated firmly. After a definite pause and blink she continued, "With you." Just in case there was any need for clarification.

Carson felt the smile fight to take control of his face again. "Well, that is gratifying to know."

"I mean, I know there probably isn't a perfect to be achieved," Elizabeth continued, her hands gesticulating wildly. "But you and me... we are just so good at it." She flopped forward and resumed her tight grip around her lover. "In fact," she said sleepily, "I could do you right now... " She paused to yawn. "If I wasn't so... " Her voice trailed off.

"Wonderful?" suggested Carson.

"Wonderful!" agreed Elizabeth with a big smile.

Carson looked down at his increasingly sleepy lover. This was probably something that would need further discussion in the morning. He glanced down at his now sleeping companion. No, considering how 'wonderful' she'd been feeling it would probably be a couple more days before it could be discussed in more detail. But still, he was a patient man. He kissed her affectionately on the head before returning to the journal again, pondering as he did so how in the universe he lucked out and had Dr Elizabeth Weir fall in love with him.


	3. What Can I Do?

She looks at me, but there is nothing I can do. And once again I feel that sense of failure.

I'm just a doctor.

Okay. A good doctor.

A better doctor than I thought I was.

But there is nothing I can do for her now.

I'm not a tactician. And I would compromise to gain life over death.

 

She looks at me and I feel the terror. The thought of losing someone so important to her. To us.

There is nothing I can do to change the situation. And anything I can do has been used to no avail it seems.

Yet she still looks to me.

Not Teyla.

Not Ronon.

Me.

 

She looks to me and then I realise.

There is a reason she asks for me, comes to me.

A reason she calls me 'her' Chief Surgeon.

Never the city's or the team's.

Always hers.

A simple reason, but one that out here has so much importance.

I am her friend, her safe harbour.

That is something I can always do.

 

She looks to me and I stand still, absorbing the emotion from her look.

Letting her know by my refusal to turn from it that I am there for her.

That, whatever she may feel, she is never alone.


	4. Partners

Elizabeth threw the spoon back into the bowl before snapping, "Carson!"

He looked back at her with reproachful eyes, and for a moment she felt her irritation waver. He had, after all, worked so hard to see the rest of them through the flu from hell that maybe he did deserve some leeway. But at this precise moment in time, as he proved yet again that doctors were indeed the worst patients, she was finding it hard to remember that. She took a deep breath.

"This is the deal, Carson," she said as calmly as she could. "You rest and let me take care of you. Or you go back to the infirmary. Your choice."

She busied herself with spooning some more porridge up, avoiding the gaze that told her exactly what he thought of those choices. When she eventually looked up and met his gaze though he looked sad. At the obvious surprise on her face he said, "I'm meant to be the one who takes care of you."

Her irritation with him washed away at the sad tone. Softly she replied, "We're meant to take care of each other. Partners, remember?"

She was rewarded with a small smile from him. Encouraged that he finally might be listening to her, she continued in a low voice, "And you know I have very special plans for taking care of you when you're better... " She let her voice trail off, her smile spreading at the flush on his face that was nothing to do with the fever he was running.

She lifted the spoon of porridge up and offered it to him. A slight defiant look appeared on his face, before a twinkle in his eye took over. Leaning forward to take the food he finally let her take care of him. Just for a while.


End file.
